Well, Hello There
by YamiGoddess
Summary: This wasn’t quite the birthday present she was expecting. Threesome M/M/F Non-explicit


Disclaimer: Namco owns, I'm just perving away

Rating: Not quite worksafe

Warnings: Umm, threesome....Because I love Rita....and I think she deserves to be happy? And innuendos. Heeheehee

Summary: This wasn't quite the birthday present she was expecting.

A/N: Er, I'm pretty sure it's not Rita's actual birthday, but who knows? It's not like I can find it anywhere.

-o-

It was the sun peeking through the curtains that woke her, and Rita didn't think she had ever surfaced into consciousness so peacefully in her life. Or at least, never with such a feeling of drowsy contentment that she felt as if she could lounge in the softness of her sheets and never leave.

Then the pain hit, slicing up the back of her head, lingering at her temples like a lover's touch and digging into her eyes like a blunt knife. She groaned miserably and turned her face into her pillow, trying to escape the now burning spear of light that was insistent in its attempts at melting her brain.

Moaning, Rita burrowed further into the cocoon of blankets and tried to think around the way her brain was revolting against her.

What _happened_ last night? Flashes of memories swam around her dizzy head like little glittering fish that darted away when she reached for them. The last thing she remembered was of a big blue birthday cake being placed in front of her, eighteen white candles fluttering delicately before the night broke apart like a Meteor formula without the proper concentration.

She tried to organize her thoughts but then her brain started protesting the overuse so she just stuffed her head under a pillow and went back to sleep.

-o-

The next time she woke, her head wasn't throbbing as badly, and the light that was drifting lazily through the curtains didn't feel like needles in her eyes. She rolled onto her side and immediately became aware of the fact that there was something under her pillow that didn't belong there. Namely, an arm. An arm that _was not_ _hers_.

Eyes flying wide, Rita stared at the wall in front of her, noting that the colour of the wall was not recognizable, and that the soft sheets she was encased didn't smell like her laundry and weren't the right color. She let her eyes flick around what she could see of the room. Nothing looked familiar, and Rita could hear someone's deep breathing near her ear.

With agonizing dread leaping up through her, Rita slowly turned her head to the side. Almost immediately a feeling of relief burst through her at seeing Yuri's familiar head of dark hair and his peacefully sleeping face, chased by a kind of horrified awkwardness as she realised just what kind of position they were in.

Because even though the _sleeping in the same bed_ thing was really strange, the whole _we're naked_ part was pretty much finishing the brain frying that she'd started earlier. And she knew they were naked, because she could feel the softness of the sheets _everywhere_ and now that she had turned to see who she was in bed with, she was pressed up against Yuri's chest. All of it. And there was a _very naked leg_ pressed up against the back of her thigh and _oh God that wasn't Yuri's sword._

She shifted minutely away, and her worst – and if she admitted it to herself it wasn't _worst – _suspicions were confirmed when her lower half tingled, feeling strained like overworked but _very well used_ muscles.

She fought a little with some hysterical laughter, because as much as she wanted to completely freak out, she didn't exactly want to wake her bed partner – bed partner, oh god – because that would be _very, very bad._ She shifted a little more, and was almost to the side of the bed – damn, bed hog – before a very long, very strong arm slipped over her middle and pinned her to the mattress. She nearly turned and shouted nasty things in Yuri's face before she remembered that she was supposed to be quiet.

She did turn – to get a look at his face to make sure he was still sleeping, of course – and was a little distracted by the way the sheets were pulled taut from her movements, creating a gaping cavern of half-darkness down Yuri's front. And as much as she tried not to, her eyes were pretty much forcibly pulled down the length of his chest – um, wow, she was never going to be able to look at him in his regular shirt even again without blushing. And she would have accused him of using a Tractor Beam spell if he actually knew magic and...no wonder she felt like a thoroughly ridden horse, huh.

She whipped her eyes away, but not before seeing a very dark set of teeth marks decorating the skin above one of Yuri's lean hips, and she felt herself go very, very red, because she hadn't known that she was a biter, and there was no way she was going to get out of this without Yuri suspecting _something_.

And then – with another quick glance that lasted much longer than she wanted to – she realized that the outline of the teeth marks looked like they were from a larger jaw then hers, and before she could help herself, she twisted and reached down, taking an approximate measurement of the diameter of the bite mark with her thumb and forefinger to compare to her own jaw.

Yup, not hers, which meant that he had been doing something with someone else before all of this, and while she tried not to acknowledge the bitter spark of jealousy that burst through her, it was kind of hard not to. But not so much when she realized that while most of the night was a blurry mess, she did remembered Yuri being around her for most of it, and that the bruise looked pretty fresh and...that meant that he hadn't done something with someone _before_ this, he'd done something with someone _during_ all this.

Uh oh.

_Please don't let it be Judith. I don't want to have had sex with Judith,_ was her first thought – because Estelle would never _bite_ someone, obviously. It _had_ to be Judith – followed closely by, _She's so pretty, it's not fair, I want a chance with - -_but she managed to cut herself off before she finished that thought because it was much too horrifying to actually put into words. Well, not actual words. Thought-words. Or something. Geez, her head hurt.

When she heard a sigh that kind of sounded like someone was waking up, Rita froze. And because her face was so close to Yuri's – wow, he had really dark eyelashes – she noticed that it _wasn't_ Yuri who'd made the noise and...the other person was still _there!_ She waited anxiously for any other sign of waking, but all she heard was someone rolling over and settling back to sleep. And she was really angry at how big Yuri was, because she couldn't see over him without lifting herself up.

And since Yuri's arm was pretty much plastered to her skin, she didn't know if she could move without waking him up. But she suddenly _really_ needed to know, because even though Estelle was still prettier that Rita was, at least Rita couldn't be too jealous of her; Estelle was too kind to be jealous of. And the hero always fell for the princess right?

And who knew, maybe Estelle was a lot less shy in bed than she seemed like she should be. Castle folk were just... strange. And Estelle did like to read a lot. And there was that book, the Kirtyan one about..._that._

Ok. Bad thoughts. Go away.

When Yuri shifted and pulled her against his chest, she nearly decided to tear out of the bed and to hell with the consequences, but then he pressed a light kiss on her shoulder – soft and warm with a hum of drowsy contentment – and suddenly she didn't really want to leave. It was her birthday after all, she defended, maybe she _wanted_ to be wrapped up in a handsome man's arms for a while – not that she actually did, of course; she was just _saying._

So she kind of just let her eyes close for a minute. Because she was never going to have this chance again and maybe – just maybe – she'd been thinking about this for a while. Not long, of course. Just, you know, since Yuri returned from his apparent grave. Say three years ago, give or take a few months.

God, she was pathetic.

She didn't even notice when she fell asleep again, warm and comfortable and _safe_.

-o-

Now, the next time she woke up, she was in for a very different surprise. First, Yuri had apparently woken up. Not a lot, because when she cracked her eyes, his were barely open, and looked even less focused. Second, he had shifted in his sleep to turn her on her back and was covering a good half of her with his own body, one thigh pressed between her legs with his torso over her like a protective shield – he was heavy, but in kind of a good way.

Third, he was doing marvellous things to the skin of her collar bone with his mouth, things that made it hard not to make a very embarrassing noise when he slipped a hand down the flat of her stomach to settle on her thigh, not touching anywhere important, just _there;_ hot and large and... this was getting uncomfortable, but in kind of a good way.

And, she decided, there were too many things going on that were in_ kind of a good way._

She was _almost _relieved when he settled back to sleep with a pained groan, eyes pinched shut in with what looked like a massive hangover building up between his temples; almost, but then he murmured into her neck, "Geez, Flynn, you're never allowed to make drinks again. Fuck, I'm gonna have a hangover for days," and then she was suddenly very, _very _angry.

Flynn! _Flynn!_ What did he mean Flynn? That asshole, she didn't even _look_ like a boy, anymore. She had _breasts_ now, and maybe they weren't huge like Judith's but they were there and - - hold on a minute.

Flynn? As in Flynn Scifo? _The Commandant_? She had time to think before nearly flinging herself off the bed in sheer surprise when the responding comment of, "Shuddup, Yuri," resounded itself nicely from the other side of the bed.

With somewhat giddy hysteria, Rita craned her neck enough to spot the spill of golden hair fanned out on a pillow, bare-chested and – glorious, just like Yuri, if she actually admitted it to herself – rumpled, eyes pinched with a hang-overish frown.

Rita's first inane thought...well her first thought was of how Yuri got the bite mark on his hip, and then she could feel herself go embarrassingly warm because the was just...wow...but her first _not-thinking-about-that_ thought was, _he's not as much of a bed hog as I thought,_ followed by, _so it wasn't Judith,_ and then by, "Oh my God." Except it kind of sounded like she had said that out loud, and since Yuri instantly stiffened around her, dark, dark eyes flying open in an instant, that pretty much confirmed it.

His eyes were so impossibly wide as he stared at her – horrified and didn't _that _hurt –; long enough that she started to squirm a little in discomfort, and she didn't know whether to start yelling or not. Might be better to start playing the blame game now and take the attention off the colossal purple Rhinossus in the room.

She had nearly opened her mouth to rip him a new one – and he might need one after... _bad thought, BAD THOUGHT_ – before he lifted himself gingerly off of her. She noticed his eyes didn't once stray from her face, and while she was a little irritated at that, she was grateful as well. And she tried not to notice how cold it was without his body heat wrapped around her like a fire formula.

Then she remembered that he had exceptional peripheral vision and felt embarrassed all over again. She wrapped her arms around her chest, and was cheered a little by the way his eyes darted down and then away, a flash of red burning spots on his cheeks. Okay, maybe he didn't think she was repulsive. That was good. So why did he look so shaken?

"Rita?!" He said incredulously, and Flynn sat bolt upright beside them, instantly alert like only a knight could, and it was hard not to think about how low the sheets were riding on his hips, because she could already see a neat strip of flesh from waist to knee from where the sheet lifted around Yuri, and when had the Commandant become so attractive?

Or maybe she should be wondering when she had _noticed_ that it should be illegal that he should be allowed to wear clothes.

Oh God, it was official, she was turning into Raven. And apparently she had made a very horrified, desperate noise when she had thought that, because when she chanced a look at Yuri's face, she noticed that it had gone very pale, and that he was breathing rather shallowly and looking rather pained.

Flynn was staring at them both with growing horror as well, which immediately caused her to bristle. Hey, she wasn't that bad to look at, what was their problem? Then Yuri started apologizing. With stutters even; alternating between sounding horribly ashamed – which in and of itself was mind boggling – and scathing when he speared a glance at Flynn.

"Oh, fuck, Rita I'm - - what the hell did you put in those drinks?! - - fuck, I'm sorry, I have no idea - - well I have some idea, fuck. Flynn, you asshole - - I, oh shit."

She took a moment to be amused by Yuri's speechlessness – it happened so rarely and all – before she realised that they might think that they took advantage of her while she was drunk.

Which, to be fair, they had, but evidently her groan of embarrassment when she thought she was turning into _Raven_ of all people, may have been horribly misconstrued for something that it _wasn't_.

Namely, that they had taken advantage of her _without_ her consent. And while she was horribly, horribly embarrassed to remember that that wasn't true – and she _did_ remember and God, she may as well have gotten down on her knees and _begged_; hopefully they weren't going to remember that part, the _almost-not-really _begging part, not the consenting part – it wasn't as if they had _raped_ her or anything.

And Flynn hadn't even flinched at being labelled the perpetrator of this whole mess. He probably thought it _was_ his fault, since he had been the one making the drinks all night. And Yuri was right; Flynn should never make drinks again, because they had been _way_ too strong – more flavoured alcohol than anything else – and maybe if they hadn't been, she wouldn't be considering making a fool of herself in the next instant. Disregarding that fact that she wasn't drunk _now._

And damn it, she was still cold. Damn Yuri for taking his heat away.

"Would you shut up," she grumbled, sitting up and wrapping the sheets around her as Yuri scooted away; apparently completely oblivious to his nakedness as he crawled across the bed out from under the sheets, and his hand had been on her thigh the _whole time;_ didn't _that_ make her feel good.

She wiggled her way to the middle of the bed, trying not to look at Yuri because she just _knew_ she'd get distracted. Flynn looked ready to bolt as she settled down beside him, and Yuri's spot was still warm. "I was trying to sleep. You know, it's pretty inconsiderate to sleep with someone and then take the blankets away. I might just have to hurt you if you do it again."

He looked so dumbfounded that she almost laughed at him. "What?"

"Meaning shut up and lay down. I'm freezing and my head hurts, and it's my birthday. I want to sleep in."

Well, it wasn't her birthday anymore, but they didn't seem to remember that part.

She settled her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, pretending that the only reason she started breathing deeply was to prevent a yawn, and not because she liked the smell of the pillow. She felt Flynn go rigid beside her and growled, "Don't move," when it felt like he was going to run.

There was a really tense moment of silence, and when she peeked up at them, she could see them having an intense battle of wills through their eyes.

"Yuri."

He was silent for a long moment. "Ya, Rita?"

"I can hear you thinking, and I'm still trying to sleep. You aren't being very helpful."

"Sorry, Rita," he said, but he still didn't move. Flynn started next.

"Miss Mordio, I - -,"

"Rita, don't call me _Miss, _makes me sound old. I'm already turning into the Old Man, I don't want to be reminded," she grumbled, glaring half-heartedly back up at him, noticing that the sunlight peeking through the window made his hair very bright. Like a halo, or some other stupid, romantic metaphor. Or simile, whatever it was. Anyway, he looked very, _very _nice; all golden-y in the sunshine and very lickable, like those candies wrapped in edible gold.

Okay, she decided, she was never having sex again if it turned her into this much of a..._deviant._

"The Old Man?" Yuri asked wryly, and she could tell he was already getting his metaphorical feet back under himself.

"Never mind," she blustered, turning her face into the pillow, snaking a hand out to grab Flynn's wrist. He jerked at her touch, but then Yuri gave in and slowly crawled back under the covers on her other side, and Flynn either had to relax to or look like the bad guy.

Which would be a terrible thing because neither Alexei nor Duke looked half as good as these two; at least in her opinion.

She could feel the way Flynn was tensed from her grip on his arm, but he finally gave in and laid back down, far enough away that they weren't touching, but close enough that she could feel his body warmth. She hid a smile; even incredibly uncomfortable he wasn't about to deny a lady what she'd asked for.

Yuri sounded like he was suppressing chuckles, like he was having the same thought as Rita but considered it hilarious rather than adorable. Not that she thought it was adorable or anything, but another girl in her position might.

But they better not have another girl in her position anytime soon or she was going to rip them _both _a new one, and then kick them off the highest tower in Zaphias.

Yuri's hand on her hip almost startled her, but she managed to reign in her instinctive urge to jump, and instead grabbed his wrist to haul his arm around her. He made a startled little grunt as he settled in, and Rita knew she was turning red again at having him so close, hot like a furnace and incredibly strong underneath all that warm skin.

He smelled nice, too. So did Flynn for that matter. At least he did when she tugged him closer; shuffling towards her reluctantly until she could rest her head on his shoulder, and only after she murmured, "a girl might think you thought she was ugly if you're protesting so much," which she didn't think sounded half as coherent as it did in her head, but Flynn seemed to have gotten the message anyway. He seemed smart like that.

His arm made a nice pillow too, and Yuri seemed to think that Flynn's hand in his hair was perfectly all right, at least given his content sigh. Rita kind of wanted to run her fingers through Yuri's hair as well – for purely reasons of research, of course; not many men had such long hair and she wondered if it felt as soft as it looked, and she wasn't about to go ask Duke – but that would mean moving, and she didn't think she could rustle up the energy to shift around in the comfortable, warm, _girl_ sandwich they'd established.

Maybe, she decided as her drowsiness reared up over her consciousness and pulled it back into darkness, she could deal with being a deviant if she could go to sleep like _this_ every night.

-o-

The next time she woke, it was to Raven's howling laughter. And then she just knew she was going to have to kill someone.


End file.
